In the Middle of the Night: Ch. 3
Chapter 3: “Fading in and out of Long Nights”
Chapters: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 - 21 - 22 - 23 - 24 - 25 - 26 - 27 - 28 - 29 - 30
MASTERLIST
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Summary: As Bangtan prepares for a new chapter in their lives, they head to their private property in the forest for a songwriting workshop. As a songwriter and producer they have worked with for years, I’m asked to tag along. I was ready for the heavy workload and small amount of sleep during the workshop week. However, I wasn’t ready for the storm that came that changed my friendship with Namjoon forever.
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Fluff and Smut
Pairing: Idol!Namjoon x Female Reader
Rating: M (future sexually explicit scenes)
Status: COMPLETE
Note: There will be a few other celebrities making appearances, but will only be briefly. This is mostly an RMxOC story.
Guest appearance: Jackson Wang (Got7). He'll pop up a couple of times.
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It had been days since the meeting with BH and the guys. I was fully at work on different projects, such as the workshops for the guys and other songs for other HYBE artists. It was around noon while I was finishing a draft when I received a “good morning” message from Namjoon.
Before responding to him, I emailed my draft to PD Bang and CC’d the song’s other producers. I responded to Namjoon and headed to the kitchen. Soon, we were messaging back and forth as I cleaned my dishes.
Me: Try ‘afternoon’, lazy. What time did you go to sleep?
Moni: 3? 4?
Me: I went to sleep at 2. And still managed to get my ass out of bed by 8.
Moni: You’re a more self-disciplined person than I am. This is not news
Me: Are you at least out of bed?
Moni: Yeah just showered
Me: Yuuuum
Moni: kkkkk. What were you doing? Working?
Even through text Namjoon still got shy and would dodge any flirtatious comments I would make. I could practically see him blushing. As much as I wanted to continue to teasing him, I cut him a break.
Me: A little. I was about to start on workshop ideas
Moni: I was going to work on them, too. Want to meet up and go over a few things?
Me: Sure. RKive?
Moni: Yeah I can meet you there in 2 hours.
Me: 2 hours? You live 20 minutes away. It takes you that long to get dolled up?
Moni: I need coffee and food
Me: I have leftovers from my burrito this morning. Want some?
Moni: …what kind of burrito?
Me: I can add sausage. It won’t be vegan. I know you like your meat.
Moni: Thank you!
Me: Meet you there in an hour.
As soon as he liked my comment, I started on the burrito. I ended up having enough for two. I decided to add more kimchi and rice, knowing Namjoon’s palate preference. After I packaged the burritos, I took a quick shower.
I decided on a casual look so I threw on some jeans shorts with a yellow blouse. Before leaving, I walked to the mirror for a critical look at my outfit.
I used to be a laidback type of girl who didn’t care much for style. My go-to outfit used to be baggy jeans and a simple tee or shorts with an oversized t-shirt. But living in Seoul, made me pay attention to what material and color went best with me. I even accessorized now. However, my makeup continued to be minimal.
I decided on a few accessories and quickly braided my hair. I noticed I was running late, so I hurried out.
The traffic to HYBE was a bit heavy; I arrived later than I would have preferred. I managed to get out of HYBE elevators and to Namjoon's studio with two minutes to spare. Namjoon was usually early, so I was surprised to find his studio locked. It was rare when he ran late. I took off my shoes as I waited for him.
No more than a minute later, I heard footsteps coming down the hall. I glanced up and saw it was Namjoon semi-jogging towards me. He was wearing khaki shorts, a sleeveless white shirt, Nikes, a black bucket hat, his signature silver hoop earrings, a working bag over his shoulder, and an iced coffee at hand. He certainly had come a long way since his chain-wearing, mohawk hair, and heavy eyeliner days. Back when he was lanky and his arms were thin, but now strutted around like some bulky hunk.
“Sorry,” he said, snapping me away from drooling over him. “Were you waiting long?” He took off his shoes and unlocked the door.
I decided to mess with him. “Like ten minutes. Your burritos are cold,” I said as I waved the small bag in my hand that contained his breakfast.
He reached down and gently took them from my hand. He leaned in several inches until I was at eye level with his hooded, brown eyes. A warm quiver made its way down my back. “Liar,” he accused. “I saw you running into the elevator from the front lobby. You beat me by a minute.” He pulled back as he opened the door and held it open for me.
I smiled mischievously and brushed past him. “Why didn’t you call out to me? I would have waited for you.”
“I wanted to see if you would be honest with me. You failed.” He closed the door behind us.
I looked around to see what I could use as a desk. “Can I use that for my laptop?” I asked, pointing to the wooden side table against the wall.
He nodded and moved it for me in front of the couch.
“Thank you.” I took out my things and set shop on the wooden table.
Namjoon went over to his desk and organized himself. Once he was settled, he took out his burritos. He opened his mouth so wide, eyes looking as if they were going to pop out of their sockets, but would only consume a small amount of food. He looked so adorable taking such big, small bites from his food. I smiled privately at his cuteness.
We chatted for a bit before we started on some ideas he had for his workshop.
We worked for six hours straight, and it was I who spoke up about taking a break.
I noticed Namjoon was starting to rub his temple a little too much. It was a habit of his I now recognized to mean he needed food in his system.
He looked hesitant, but when I pulled out the menu options on my phone of where we could order from, he was fully intrigued.
After putting in our order, we continued to work. Once one of the BH staff brought our order up, we set aside our work. Namjoon moved to the floor next to me and we began to eat. Finally, we were able to fully chat about non-work-related topics.
“I finished the book last night,” Namjoon stated as he took a bite from his noodles.
I wasn’t sure which book he was referring to. He was going back and forth between two books I had recommended. “Alire Sáenz or Ngozi Adichie?”
“Alire Sáenz.”
“Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe?” I smiled as I asked the question.
His dimples instantly appeared as he chortled. “You enjoy saying that title.”
“It’s an awesome title. Why do you think I chose the book?”
He nodded, sweetly agreeing with me.
For the next ten minutes, we went over the novel and our thoughts on the characters and their different relationships with their parents. Namjoon related to Dante’s relationship with his parents: they were supportive, openly caring, and had great communication. I, on the other hand, found my relationship with my parents was similar to Ari’s with his own parents: distant and as if there was a heavily guarded secret that kept our relationship distant.
As I spoke, Namjoon placed his right hand on his chin with his fingers lingering across his mouth, as he looked at me intently with his warm, brown eyes. He always made me feel as if I had his undivided attention. Once I finished my explanation of why I familiarized myself with Ari, Namjoon's brows were lightly knitted together. “Have you brought this up to your parents? Feeling that there is something that keeps you from fully bonding?”
I brought up my legs to my chest, feeling a little too exposed and in need to get some physical security around me. “Getting Latinos to speak openly about their feelings is a very hard task. Often when I bring up an issue, they dismiss it. I know a little of my dad’s upbringing: an alcoholic father and a mother who worked much too hard to feed that habit instead of feeding the hunger of her six children. My mother grew up in an abusive household. Growing up, the only emotion they saw displayed by their parents was anger—which then bled into their own relationship. My brothers and I witnessed the toxicity. It’s generations of trauma.”
He was quiet for a moment as if analyzing it all. “You do well in speaking up.” There was a slight look of admiration in his eyes.
“There’s a difference between speaking up and opening up. Latinos have no problem being confrontational. We thrive off a good yelling match,” I said laughing. “But ask us about any childhood trauma? That’s when the beer and shots begin.”
“Why do you think you’re so different? You don’t hide from being open and honest.” A light smile lingered on his face.
“Therapy worked. And then my Tia Jia helped. She would ask me how I was doing—mostly focusing on my emotions. During the countless Korean lessons she gave me, I would also have small therapy sessions with her.” I smiled at the memory. I was grateful to my mother’s best friend—the woman who took on the role that the person who birthed me couldn’t. It upset me that I wasn’t close to my mother but having the relationship I did with my Tia Jia was one I adored and wouldn’t trade for anything. “Plus, I’m not really open to everyone. I might be openly caring and loving but talking about my emotions? I only do that with a few people.”
Namjoon’s dimples appeared. “I’m one of the lucky few?”
The question made me feel a little shy; he knew the answer. “I don’t even think I’ve told Hobi some of the things I’ve told you.” I could feel my cheeks getting warm. While I made friends easily and did well in social settings, I was very reserved. I had always kept my emotions and concerns to myself. But in the last two years, Namjoon had a way of getting me to open up with little to no effort.
There was silence in the room. I could feel brown eyes on me.
His deep voice rang in the small, quiet room. “I’m honored you feel you can open up to me.”
I let out an uncomfortable laugh. “Well, I might open up a little more to Hobi but he spends too much of his free time with his girlfriend. You’re equally as lonely as I am, so it’s easy to use you as my personal therapist.”
This made him break into laughter.
Suddenly the door rattled; the loud noise snapping our attention away from each other.
“Shit!” Namjoon jumped a little. These boys got scared too easily.
We both turned to the door and found a silhouette coming from the other side.
Namjoon let out a sigh that was reserved for his brothers. “He’s so needy.”
We watched as Jimin made movements against the door.
“You need to take a cue from Yoongi and install a keypad.” I began to clean up my stuff.
“I should,” Namjoon muttered.
Jimin continued his movements against the door.
“What do you want?” Namjoon called out to the door but didn’t make a motion to go to it.
Jimin heard this as an invitation and opened the door himself. He looked slightly flushed as if he had been working out for a good while. At seeing me, he gave me one of his flirtatious smiles. “Hi, noona.”
“Hi, cutie.” I grabbed my plate of leftovers. “Hungry?”
His eyes popped at the sight of food and he licked his lips. He let me feed him some noodles.
“How was the shoot?” asked Namjoon. He made his way to his chair.
Jimin nodded as he chewed and gave a thumbs up.
“What were you shooting?” I asked.
Still chewing, he answered, “A dance for the new Butter release.”
“Oh, the one with Megan Thee Stallion’s part?” I asked excitedly.
Jimin eyed me. “Did Namjoonie-hyung tell you or was it Hobi?”
“Hope,” I answered. “He sent me a couple videos of the practices. That footwork is complicated but you guys look tight.”
Jimin nodded. “It was difficult but fun. We shot it like 100 times yesterday.” He gave a small head shake. “What are you two up to?” He took another bite of food.
“Workshops.”
Jimin made a noise indicating he understood, but he didn’t hold too much interest in discussing it. After a moment of silence, I felt Jimin’s eyes were on me. I turned and noticed he was in fact looking at me with a smile on his face.
“What?” I asked. I had a sense his answer was going to annoy me.
He giggled and then turned to Namjoon, who had his back to us and writing something down. Jimin turned back to me, his smile only wider.
“What?” I demanded.
After a giggle, he cleared his throat and composed himself. “You look nice in that blouse.”
I frowned and looked down at my attire. Was I dressed inappropriately? The blouse fit me fine, I thought. It barely showed any cleavage.
Jimin continued to smile at his inside joke.
“Ignore him,” Namjoon advised, his back still to us.
Jimin then started one of his giggle fits.
I turned to Namjoon, completely lost.
Namjoon was dismissive. “He’s dumb. He took something I said out of context.”
“What?”
He let out a sigh. “I mentioned the other day how yellow looks good on you.”
This further confused me. “Ok?”
“He also went on to talk about that purple sweater you wear sometimes,” Jimin said, looking at Namjoon with a secret look.
Namjoon sent him a death stare.
“What sweater?” I asked.
“There’s this purple sweater you wore in the spring,” Namjoon said with reluctance. “I said the color complimented your skin tone. But Jimini likes to make something out of nothing.”
Jimin gave a breathy chortle.
Namjoon looked over at Jimin, looking more than done with him. “Are you in need for attention again? Did Hobi and Jungkook not give you enough of it?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” Jimin said innocently.
Namjoon stood up and started to kick his little brother out. Jimin put up a small fight.
Before Jimin left, he turned to me. “Are you still going bowling tonight?”
I nodded. “Yups. I’ll meet you there.”
He said his goodbye and allowed Namjoon to push him out of the room.
“What is going on with him?” I asked, remembered how he had been the other night at dinner. As if he had some sort of secret.
“I’m telling you—he’s dumb,” Namjoon said dismissively. “Who else is going bowling?” he asked, wanting to change the subject.
“A few others. Want to come?” I asked. A mutual friend had invited Jimin, me, and a few others some days ago. I wasn’t sure if it was ok to invite Namjoon but it felt awkward not to at this moment.
“What time?” he asked as he sat back on his chair.
“7, I think. It’s a private party. A small group of us is going. We’ll have a private room.”
“Yeah, sounds fun.”
“Jimin has the address. Catch a ride with him.”
“Yeah, I’ll be sure to stick him in the trunk.”
I smiled and then checked the time. It was getting a little late and there were still a couple of things I wanted to do before bowling.
“I need to get going. I need to run errands.” I began to gather my stuff.
Namjoon nodded. “Ok. I’ll see you later. Want to meet up again to plan?”
“Sure. Text me what times you’re free. I’m meeting Yoongi tomorrow and Tae in a couple of days.” I stuck the last piece of item inside my bag.
Namjoon looked a bit taken aback. “Suga asked for help?”
I scoffed. “No. I’m inviting myself over and helping him plan it out. Otherwise, he’ll just make something up the morning of his workshop.”
He tilted his head. “That tends to work for him.”
“I know. But can you imagine how better his songs could be if he took his time with them, rather than working on them for an hour and just submitting them as is?” I was secretly jealous of how Yoongi was able to create masterpieces in such little time. He never stressed over a song; he just let a song be. I was the opposite. I overanalyzed every lyric and chord and beat.
Namjoon chuckled. “Don’t be too disappointed when all he does is ignore you.”
“Oh, I’m gonna make it happen.” I took my bag.
As I turned to the door, Namjoon was already there and opening it for me. I thanked him as I stepped outside. “See you in a bit.”
He gave a gentle wave. “Bye.”
I noticed he didn’t go back into the studio until I was turning the corner.
~~~~~
After getting groceries, I did a few chores around my apartment and decided to take a small nap. There was no way I was going to make it past midnight without one.
By the time I woke up, I noticed I didn’t have long to get ready. I cursed myself for not setting an alarm, but I had no idea my body had felt so exhausted.
I rushed to my closet and took out one of my favorite jeans along with the first shirt that would go well with it. My braid was a mess, so I decided to pull it apart. It was still damp from my shower in the morning, so I applied some product. It was naturally curly, and the braid had tightened the curls. Thankfully, I was out of my apartment at a decent time.
When I arrived at the location, a couple of friends were already there, including Jungkook.
Namjoon and Jimin arrived a few minutes later. I was sure their tardiness was due to Jimin. They had taken a car together; it was only natural that Namjoon would arrive late as well.
Jimin was sporting a pair of slacks and a cozy sweater while Namjoon wore overalls and a loose white t-shirt underneath. He had ditched his timberlands for combat boots. He pulled the outfit like a model.
Everyone exchanged greetings with the pair of them.
I caught Jimin staring at me and he give a small giggle. I ignored him.
Jungkook frowned at Namjoon. “I thought you were working in the studio tonight.”
Jungkook was standing behind me with his hands on my shoulders, I could feel his nose get close to my hair and take a whiff of it. This was not uncommon for him to do, so it didn’t bother me.
Namjoon shook his head. “I’ll do that after,” he said as he took a seat next to me.
After we settled on the teams, a staff came over to take out drink orders. I asked for a martini.
As the staff walked away, Namjoon turned to me with a serious face.
“Aren’t you driving, Maya?” His face was full of concern.
“It’s one drink. We’re going to be here for at least an hour. And if I don’t feel fine, then I can just walk around the corner to that one dumpling place and sober up before I leave,” I explained. I knew my limitations. I would never drive under the influence, which is why I wanted to have a drink right at the beginning of the game, so I had enough time to get it off my system.
Namjoon gave a nod. We all walked over to the bowling balls to select which we were going to use.
As I was looking for one that was the ideal weight for myself, I noticed Jimin looking at me.
“Nice blouse, noona. It compliments you very well,” he said.
I frowned and looked down. And that’s when I noticed it. I was wearing purple. Dammit. I internally groaned. Jimin was totally going to make this a thing.
Sure enough, Jimin’s laughter boomed.
I wanted to shove him. But I knew it would only draw attention and more people would get involved in the teasing.
Thankfully, only Jungkook was interested in Jimin’s laughter and Jimin didn’t tell him what it was he was laughing about.
I did my best to talk to my team and keep their focus away from Jimin.
As we strategized, the door to our private room opened. We looked up and a good-looking guy wearing all black made his way over to us.
“What’s up everyone?” Jackson greeted the room.
We all shouted out pleasantries.
I was one of the first he got to. “You made it,” I said as I gave him a hug.
He held on for several seconds before letting go. “Hey, chica,” my friend, Jackson Wang, said to me with one of his many smiles. He turned to Namjoon and they dapped up. “Where you been, man? I invited you to boy’s night the other day and you said you were fully booked.”
They had a sweet friendship. It was a strange combination. Jackson was a jokester and Namjoon tended to focus more on work rather than play. They were good for each of them. Jackson quieted down with Namjoon and Namjoon loosened up with Jackson.
Namjoon smiled at the teasing. “I finished a few things early. How you been, man?”
This was another part of Namjoon I enjoyed seeing. His way of speaking and physical stance changed around Jackson. Namjoon already had a cool demeanor but around certain people—like Jackson—that coolness turned to swag. His body was looser, his stance slouchier, his chin higher, his legs further apart. More relaxed and himself. It made him kind of hot if I was being honest.
The pair continued to chat as the game started.
When the waiter came with our drinks, he placed them on a table near us, keeping a social distance.
A couple of us went and retrieved the drinks, me being one of them. Many of the group also wanted water, so I made my way to get some—there was a jug not too far away.
As I made my way back with several cups and a jar of water, I overheard Namjoon and Jackson talking. But it wasn’t the simple fact that they were talking that caught my attention, but that my name was brought up. I stopped in my tracks.
Their backs were to me as they faced the bowling alley, so they weren’t aware I was so close.
“Of course, you came today. Maya's here, so why wouldn't you be,” Jackson said.
Jungkook laughed.
“Huh?” asked Namjoon, sounding lost.
Jackson laughed. “Is he still in denial?”
Jungkook gave a nod. “Yes.”
“Seriously man, you need to make a move,” Jackson said. “Maya is a catch. She’s kind, cool, talented, intelligent—she can keep up with you. Not to forget, she's hot. Guys keep lining up for her. And one of these days, she’s going to find a keeper and you’re going to hate yourself. If you don’t think you have a shot with her, then I’m going to step in—”
Ewww. I knew Jackson was joking. We had been friends long enough for me to know when he was joking. But it still didn’t make me want to gag any less at the thought of him liking me. It was like hearing an annoying little cousin liked me. “Jungkook, can you come help me?” I wanted to stop this conversation, quickly.
Namjoon, Jackson, and Jungkook turned to me and saw me ‘struggling’—I was pretending to lose balance with the cups and jar in my hands.
They got to their feet and hurried over to me. I handed Namjoon and Jungkook the cups and gave Jackson the jar. He even offered his arm to guide me to my seat.
I knew what he was playing and I remembered his gross words from a moment ago. I noticed he sent Namjoon a sly look as he extended his arm to me.
“Fuck off, Jackson,” I said in English as I swatted his arm and made my way to our seats.
He laughed.
“Namjoonah—you’re up,” called out one of our friends.
Namjoon put down the cups and headed to the front.
Jimin, Jungkook, and Jackson began to tease him. Normally, I was quick to quiet them down, but I kept playing Jackson’s words to Namjoon in my head.
You need to make a move.
What move was he talking about? Did he mean romantically?
In the years of me living in Seoul, some of our friends had made remarks about Namjoon and I getting involved, but it normally was in jest—or so it seemed to me. While Jackson had used his joking tone when he said he would ask me out, he certainly sounded serious with everything else.
As I observed Namjoon toss his bowling ball down the lane and miss all ten pins—twice—I replayed Jackson’s words, unsure how I felt about them.
For the next two hours, I did my best to forget the words. We managed to have a good time during the game. We all mostly sucked—except for Jungkook and Jackson—but we enjoyed the company…and drinks. Jackson ordered me another when he saw I had finished the martini. I caught Namjoon eyeing it. I knew it bothered him when I drank before driving. His neck was a little tense and was pretending to be engaged with whoever was up next.
I made sure to not have more than one sip from Jackson’s drink. I didn’t want to be rude to and not at least drink some of it.
The game was over a short while later. Most of us stayed to chat, but eventually, we all dispersed.
Namjoon, Jackson, Jimin, and I were the last ones to leave. Jungkook had left in his own car, hurrying home to his girlfriend and puppy.
The four of us who remained finally headed to the door.
Jackson had his arm around my shoulders. “Why don’t you guys come over? I’m meeting with Jinyoung and Bam. We’re gonna have some more drinks.”
“We have a few meetings tomorrow,” explained Jimin with a slight pout.
“Just one drink,” Jackson insisted.
Jimin turned to Namjoon, “Do you want to?”
Namjoon gave him an encouraging nod. “Go if you want. Enjoy yourself. I really need to get back to the studio. I’ll call another car.”
Jackson let out a grunt. He pulled me a little closer. “You’ll go, right Maya? I know if I can get you to come over, Mr. Workaholic will come also come.”
“He likes to work, leave him be,” I defended Namjoon.
Namjoon sent me a small smile of appreciation.
“And I really need to call it a night. I have a few things to work on as well,” I said before Jackson could try to persuade me.
We were about to exit our private location, so I stepped away from Jackson’s embrace. There would be people who would instantly recognize the guys and I had to make sure I kept my distance. “I’ll let you all leave first.”
I gave Jackson and Jimin a hug as Namjoon said he was going to call a car.
Jimin and Jackson looked at each other and shared a smile and look.
Namjoon shook his head to the side and took out his phone to make a call.
Jackson and Jimin waved to us as they left the room, big grins over their faces.
It would be another ten or fifteen minutes for a car to get to Namjoon. We were alone until then.
“I really don’t want to leave you,” Namjoon said suddenly.
I frowned at him. “That came out of nowhere.”
“Doesn’t seem as if you’ve fully sobered up,” he said as he looked at me intently.
“What makes you say that?” I asked. I didn’t even feel a buzz.
“Girl, your face is flushed,” he explained. “You talk a big talk, but you’re a lightweight.”
I rolled my eyes, knowing he was teasing. We both knew damn well I was good at holding down my liquor. “Get dumplings with me, then.” I reached for his overalls and pulled at them lightly. It was a slightly flirty move, but I did this to him at times.
He smiled back as he let his body be pulled towards mine. He usually shied away from my advances, but this time, he was giving in. “Let’s order delivery and get a cab to the dorms?”
He was so close he was almost hovering. I felt a sudden shiver. “I like driving myself.”
He shook his head, but a smile lingered touched his lips. “What’s up with that? I don’t get why you always have to be the one who drives.”
I looked up into his chocolate-warm eyes. How was it that I felt like telling him everything? “Dr. Rob says that it’s due to childhood trauma. Any time I can have control—I take it. As a kid, I didn’t feel secure with the adults around me—they were way too chaotic. When I’m not in control, my anxiety kicks in.”
Everything always pointed to childhood, didn’t it?
Namjoon didn’t say anything for a moment. He seemed to take in and try to understand what I had just said. With a soft expression, he said, “I’m sorry for not understanding before.”
As always, his apology was sincere.
“The dumpling place is close. Let’s walk there and pick some up?” I asked, looking down and kicking his combat boot lightly.
Namjoon let out a groan, but not because of my kick. “I’d like to, but…”
“People will see.” I finished for him.
He simply sighed.
Most of the time, it was amazing being best friends with Kim Namjoon. Not a moment with him felt dull or wasted. But there were times I was reminded that he was also RM, leader of the biggest K-Pop band in the world. If I were to be openly friends with him in the public eye, our privacy would only get smaller.
I really wanted this whole COVID shit to end. Then we could take a trip together to a place no one knew us and we could enjoy each other’s company. We had already thought of a few places we could travel to once things went back to normal. Now all that was left to do was wait.
“Just bring the dumplings over to the studio. I have makgeolli.” He was trying to bait me with one of my favorite drinks. Damn him.
“Didn’t you say you needed to work on a few things tonight? And you have meetings in the morning,” I reminded him.
“It’ll only be for a few hours. I just need five hours of sleep,” Namjoon explained.
I really didn’t want to be the cause of his little sleep. Plus, I had my own work to think about.
“Come on…” He reached over and poked my side. “Just one drink.”
I looked at him and he suddenly had a puppy look on his face with his pouty lips. He knew I couldn’t say no to him now. I smacked him lightly. “Damn you. Fine. One drink!”
He smiled in victory.
“I’ll go pick up the dumplings. Meet you at the studio in about 30 minutes.” I set off to the dumpling place and ordered for us as he waited for his car.
We met at RKive a little more than half an hour later.
He had changed out of his clothes again. He had on some Gucci sweatpants with a simple white t-shirt. He had taken off his combat boots and put on his comfy slippers.
There were small bowls, ladles, and makgeolli ready by the time I stepped into his studio. As I placed the food on the small table, I had a small doubt looking at the makgeolli.
Namjoon missed nothing. “What?”
“Huh?”
“You have that look on your face,” he said simply as he opened the bag of food and began to take out the dumplings.
“What look?” I didn’t like people analyzing my face.
He chuckled. “You’re not sure of something. You made a face.”
It was irritating sometimes that he knew me so well. Only sometimes. “I don’t think the makgeolli is going to go well with the dumplings.”
“I have sake,” he suggested.
I nodded. That would work. Makgeolli would have to wait for another day.
We drank one ochoko each. Neither of us was a heavy drinker, just did so occasionally. It was another thing we had in common. We liked liquor for the taste of it, not so much for the feeling it gave us. I personally had never been drunk; too afraid of being out of my own control. I had a feeling this was one of the main reasons Namjoon also didn’t get drunk often either. We liked to have a clear mind so we would make logical decisions.
We ate a little but mostly chatted for a good hour before Namjoon forced himself to work. I was feeling light-headed, so I stayed and watched him work. I gave a few suggestions when he asked for opinions, but I mostly lay on the couch as he labored on the computer.
I didn’t get to see this side of him often. When he worked, he was mostly alone in the studio. It was one of my favorite versions of him: the hard worker.
He had put on an oversized hoodie, his hood wrapped around his head. Headphones were covering one ear as he looked intently at his screen. His left fingers stroked the keyboard every once in a while as his right hand skimmed the mousepad. His shoulders were hunched over as he listened to the beat. He muttered to himself every so often. He was so consumed in his craft, that he forgot I was there. And I couldn’t help but like the feeling. I was watching a version of him many didn’t get to see.
He let out a heavy sigh and began to stretch his neck, rotating round and round. He did a turn on his chair and his eyes landed on mine. He looked a little surprised at the sight of me. Then he let out a nervous laugh. “I forgot you were here.”
“Thanks,” I said sarcastically.
He got up from his chair. “Sorry.” He started walking over to me. “You look better, though.”
I gave him a look. “Are you saying I looked like shit?”
“You never look like shit.” He took a seat on the floor and leaned against the couch.
I pulled myself upright and threw my legs on the ground. “You looked cute working,” I admitted to him as I slid down to sit next to him.
He frowned. “How?”
I shrugged. “You were fully engrossed; very focused. It’s nice to see how that genius brain of yours works while you’re creating something.”
He shook his head slightly. “I’m not that smart.”
“Your IQ says differently.”
“That was just a test. A piece of paper that doesn’t apply to real life—real art,” he said with all seriousness. “You and Yoongi create amazing music that I never could. You play multiple musical instruments, you can carry full conversations in three languages, and you have more education than I do—a bachelor’s degree. You’re smarter than I am.”
“There’s a difference between genius and smart. I know I’m smart. But that came with great difficulty. I’m not naturallysmart—I needed a lot of private tutors and lessons to get me there. I had the luxury of growing up with opportunities—my parents were wealthy. I had tutors to assist me. But you have the kind of brain that very few are born with.”
He opened his mouth to argue, but I shut him up it with my hand. “I don’t want to hear it.”
I was so close to him, I could see the black streaks in his deep, warm cocoa irises. He had such deep brown eyes, it was surprising to find they weren’t as dark as I thought they were.
It took a while to notice I had moved closer to him. So much so, that I could feel his breath on my face. I pulled back, feeling embarrassed.
He looked a little off as well as he looked at me. Had I made him feel uncomfortable? Dammit, this crush I had on him was lasting way too long this time around. It was getting a little too out of hand.
He kept staring at me, as if he wanted to say something but was holding back.
“What?” I asked instinctively.
Namjoon was about to say something, but his phone buzzed. He let out a grunt and read the message, making him give out another grunt. “Sorry, I told Rabbit I would send this to him by midnight.”
I remembered where I was and checked the time. It was well past midnight. “It’s ok. I should really get going.” I got up.
He did the same. “Let me at least call you a car. Please.”
His eyes were pleading so much and it was pretty late. Seoul was pretty safe, even this late at night, but I didn’t want to worry Namjoon. “Ok.”
Relief spread across his face. He made a quick phone call. My car would be in the parking lot in a few minutes.
“Are you busy this weekend?” he asked.
I shook my head. “Wanna visit another museum?”
Museums and nature were Namjoon’s church. It kept him sane and stable. He had his trouble with depression. He got lost too much in his thoughts that if not kept in check, those thoughts would turn dark. He had admitted to me if he went without going outside for a long time, those dark thoughts would start consuming him. So, at least once a month, I went with him on either a museum trip or a hiking trail.
“I was thinking more of a hike,” he answered.
“Sure. Will Yongrae and Hakun be there?” I asked, referring to two friends he shared his love for art and tended to go with him almost everywhere.
“I’m sure they will.” He got a message on his phone. “Your car is ready,” he told me.
I gathered my things and began to head to the door.
“Text me once you’re home,” he said as he followed me.
We smiled goodbye and just like earlier today, he watched me leave from his doorway.
As I made my way down to the parking lot floor, my heart sped, and my breathing became heavier. What the hell was happening? I had actually leaned in. Our faces had been just a few inches from each other. God, I needed to get it together.
I vaguely recalled the ride home and even less, how I got to my front door. My mind swam around my feelings for Namjoon.
My body started to feel the weight of the long day by the time I stepped into my room. I felt exhausted from bowling and mentally tired from the worry. I had a feeling that despite the million questions floating in my head, my body was going to pass out soon.
I threw myself on my bed and wrote Namjoon a quick message, keeping my promise.
Me: Made it home.
Moni: Goodnight. Sweet dreams.
His response was quick but short as if he had been waiting for my message.
I fell asleep, smiling at the thought of him waiting for my answer.
Throughout the night, I held onto my phone like it was a blankey.
Chapters: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 - 21 - 22 - 23 - 24 - 25 - 26 - 27 - 28 - 29 - 30
MASTERLIST
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